Guy Noir

He's smooth, he's cool, he's quick with a gun
A master in the boudoir
A man in a trenchcoat who gets the job done
That's Guy, Guy Noir

The women ask, "Who's that guy over there?

Smoking that lovely cigar?
In the wrinkled suit and the interesting hair?
It's Guy......Guy Noir.

TR: A dark night in a city that knows how to keep its secrets, but on the twelfth floor of the Acme Building, one man is still trying to find the answers to life's persistent questions -- Guy Noir, private eye.

(THEME UP AND OUT)

GK: It was a beautiful fall day, warm and golden, the sort of day when you think maybe you've discovered the secret of happiness. You feel lucky. And then you get this amazing visit.

GK: Yeah. What can I do for you?---- She was tall and beautiful and blonde. Her pants were so tight, I could count the change in her pocket, and she wore a blouse that laid all the cards on the table.

SS: Mr. Noir, I'm Donna Decorah and I'll come right to the point. My husband ran off with a younger woman and he was killed when an anvil fell out of a tree and hit him in the head but unfortunately he neglected to update his will and give me my rightful share of his multi-billion-dollar fortune.

GK: I see. How can I help?

SS: You're a dead ringer for my late husband. You're like his identical twin. I want you to move in with me in my mansion and sign the papers that will make me the wealthiest woman in America. For which I will pay you handsomely. And speaking of handsome, may I say that I think you are ---- hot.

GK: Hot? Moi?

SS: You're not just --- hot. You are HOT.

GK: Well, okay. When you say handsomely, were you thinking in terms of thousands or what?

SS: I was thinking a million or so.

GK: A million.

SS: How about two million?

GK: Two million dollars?

SS: Okay, make it three. And kiss me, you fool. You beautiful fool. Kiss me. (BRIDGE)

GK: It was every man's dream. A fabulous woman, no commitment, and a generous severance package. It was beautiful. (CELLPHONE RING) Excuse me. My phone. (PICK UP) Yeah. Noir here.

TR: Noir, it's me. Pedro. Pedro Peterson.

GK: Pedro the Perp.

TR: Very perspicacious.

GK: Just out of prison, I presume.

TR: You put me there, pal. The Penobscot penitentiary on the Penobscot peninsula, in a pitiful Podunk town called Piscacadawadaquoddymoggin. It was pretty punitive.

GK: I couldn't let Pedro run rampant like that. The guy is in a wheelchair and like a lot of chairbound people, he's wily, unpredictable. And, I was soon to discover, he'd purchased a rocket-propelled wheelchair. He struck first at a produce stand. ----- Lieutenant McCafferty called me.

TR (IRISH): He's out there stealing punchlines.

GK: Punchlines----

TR (IRISH): Punchlines of jokes.

GK: You mean like, "What makes you think I'm not"?

TR (IRISH): Which joke is that to?

GK: The one about the two penguins on the ice floe.

TR (IRISH): Oh. How does that one go again?

GK: I'll tell you some other time. (BRIDGE) And minutes later Pedro came by (ROCKET WHEELCHAIR, SCREECH OF TIRES) ----- he hit a pizza stand (GUNSHOTS, METALLIC BWANG) he grabbed something and took off (ROCKET) and (RUNNING FOOTSTEPS)----- you okay, Patty?

SS: Yeah. I think so. Who was that guy? He took ----- now I forget what it was------

GK: A punchline to a joke?

SS: Oh yeah. But I forget how it went.

GK: You remember anything about the joke?

SS: It was the one about Roy Rogers and the cougar who ate his sneakers.

GK: Looks like he dropped it here. (FOOTSTEPS ON GRAVEL) "Someday my prints will come"?

TR (VENDOR): That's it. What does this guy want? (BRIDGE)

GK: Pedro the Punchline Bandit ran wild in S.t Paul. A rocket-powered wheelchair is hard to stop, (ROCKET BLASTING PAST) especially when it can go in any direction, including straight up (ROCKED BLASTING UP) ----- and he knew what he wanted and where to find it. (STING)

SS (DORIS): He made off with it. All my Ole and Lena jokes.

GK: Here. He dropped a punchline. "What about the guy in the living room?" "Let him get his own beer."

SS (DORIS): Sounds familiar but it's worthless without the lead in.

TR: The joke about putting newspapers down in the entry way for people to wipe their feet on. I'm missing the last line.

GK: "These are the Times that dry men's soles."

TR: Right. And the one about the man who gets his rooster to chase Margaret Thatcher?

GK: He wanted to see a chicken catch a Tory. (STING, BRIDGE) We got some pictures of him as he sped past ---- young, good-looking guy in a Detroit Pistons shirt ---- and then one day he was gone. I assume he's in Pacific Palisades. Or Poughkeepsie. Or Pompano Beach. He sure isn't here in St. Paul.

(PAUSE)

SS (DORIS): And that's the end of the story?

GK: I guess so.

SS (DORIS): He got away?

GK: Evidently. He's not here. (DOOR OPEN, CLOSE) Not in there.

TR (RICO): What about the dame from Prospect Park? The widow who was going to pay you three million simoleons.

GK: I forget her address.

TR (RICO): You forget???? How can you forget a thing like that?

GK: He took the last page of the script. It's gone. (RUMMAGE) Not here. (HORSE WHINNIES) Hey. No horses in this story.

TK: How does it end? With a bang? (SFX) Or a whimper? (SFX)

SS: What about this? -----(IRISH) I put my arms around him yes and drew him down to me so he could feel my breasts all perfume yes and his heart was going like mad and yes I said yes I will Yes. (HONK, CAR PASSES)

TR: It is a far far better thing I do than I have ever done. (BIG BUILD UP AND SNEEZE)

SS: So we beat on, boats against the current, borne back ceaselessly into the past. (SS ALARM, FALLING)

TR (BRIT): But wherever they go, and whatever happens to them on the way, in that enchanted place on the top of the Forest, a little boy and his Bear will always be playing.

Lovingly selected from the earliest archives of A Prairie Home Companion, this heirloom collection represents the music from earliest years of the now legendary show: 1974–1976. With songs and tunes from jazz pianist Butch Thompson, mandolin maestro Peter Ostroushko, Dakota Dave Hull and the first house band, The Powdermilk Biscuit Band (Adam Granger, Bob Douglas and Mary DuShane).